If You Wanted Honesty
by C'est Elise
Summary: Harry, Hermione and Sirius are sick of being manipulated and kept powerless. They have a plan, devised in Harry's fourth year, to do things their way- and no one is going to stop this newly-formed family. Independent!Harry, not Super!Harry.
1. Plan In Motion

Disclaimer: blah blah blah not mine.

A/N: I am not even going to try to align my fics with the canon HP series. If I screw up dates, what happens in certain years as opposed to others, oh well. If you don't like it, well then you can suck it, can't you? For all intents and purposes, this is an AU fic. There, does that make you feel better?

Also, some people may wonder why they brought Sirius sandwiches and other things instead of chicken. Well, the short answer is because I'm a goddamned vegan and this is my goddamned story. So deal!

* * *

**Harry Potter's Secret Heartache**

_A boy like no other, perhaps- yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Rita Skeeter. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter though he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss._

_Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last World Quidditch Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has "never felt this way about any other girl."_

_However, it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms that have captured these unfortunate boys' interest._

"_She's really ugly," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, "but she'd be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it."_

_Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart on a worthier candidate._

_

* * *

  
_

Ron's blustering about Hermione's new status as a "scarlet woman" and Snape's insistence on reading the article aloud to his class were, so far, the only notable events in Harry's day- except, of course, the letter he had received from Sirius that morning. On that grubby paper it had read, _Be at stile at end of road out of Hogsmeade (past Dervish and Banges) at two o'clock on Saturday afternoon. Bring as much food as you can_. Harry would be lying if he said he wasn't excited to see his Godfather again.

So, meeting Ron and Hermione in the common room, around noon as they had planned, as they prepared to leave for Hogsmeade, he couldn't help letting a giggle or two slip from under his invisibility cloak. Ron had trouble keeping a straight face as well, even though he didn't know why Harry was in such a good mood, and Hermione managed to worry enough for the both of them.

The weather was better than it had been in weeks. Ron threw off his cloak and stretched in the pleasant air, turning to Hermione and Harry (or where he assumed Harry was) with a wide grin. "Where're we off to first?"

"Well..." Hermione's mouth quipped up into a smile. "I have a favor to ask of you, Ron."

"Oh, no." His face fell slightly. "What is it now?"

She handed him a bag of coins. "Dobby." She said simply.

"Oh, bloody hell, Hermione, you want me to get socks for the elf- again?" His exasperation, however understandable, irritated Hermione. Before she could launch into another S.P.E.W tirade, Ron grabbed the coins. "Alright, I'll get him the craziest socks I can find. What about you t- about you? Where are you going to be?"

"I'm going back to the castle to find Harry. He needed some help with his Potions essay." She gave him a meaningful look.

"Alright." Ron sighed, with a look equally meaningful that read 'you're going to tell me later, right?' Hermione sighed at his lost puppy look as he headed to Gladrags.

Harry emerged out from under his cloak as soon as Ron was out of sight. "Fin-al-lyyy," he groaned. "It's not easy hunching under that cloak for so long!"

Hermione giggled, pulling the cloak around them both. It left their bodies, from about the mid-thigh down exposed, caused another round of sniggering to break out between the two before Hermione cast a Disillusion charm on them.

The march to the stile proved to be rather uneventful, except for the occasional hand-brushing and the resulting blushing and giggling. When they reached the end of the street and saw Padfoot, Harry bolted out from under the cloak before Hermione could stop him, leaving her to stand, invisible, and laugh heartily at a Harry without legs, apparently floating, run and hug the filthy dog.

* * *

Harry and Hermione sat, petting Buckbeak contentedly as Sirius devoured half of the food they'd brought him. Harry's face was pained as he looked his Godfather up and down, taking in the filthy robes and emaciated figure of the man he'd saved only a year before. Hermione's expression was the same, although she tried to hide the tears in her eyes by making a crack about Sirius' smell making her allergies act up

His bark-laugh was barely audible through the mouthful of bread and peanut butter. As soon as he located the flagon of pumpkin juice- magically refilling, to his immense joy- he began to speak.

"I've missed you, Harry. You as well, Hermione. What's been happening at Hogwarts?"

"Well..." Harry took a breath, trying to decide where to start. After a moment he sighed and nodded to Hermione, who gladly took the reins.

"Well, you see, after the Second Task, Krum pulled me out of the water and asked me to spend the summer with him, told me all this about never feeling 'this way' about a girl before-" Sirius snorted, grinning but nodding for her to continue. "and then he brushed this bug out of my hair, which didn't seem like a big deal at the time, but the after this happened-" she tossed a copy of Witch Weekly at Sirius, who quickly scanned the article, stopping every few moments to laugh heartily at Harry, "I started to think, where could Rita Skeeter have heard those things? Then it hit me- she was there! Of course, how could she have been, unless she has an invisibility cloak, which I doubt and Moody would've seen through it anyway, or she's an _Animagus!_" At this point, she paused to take a breath, grinning at the look on Sirius' face.

"Wait- you mean, that bug in your hair was Rita Skeeter?" He collapsed against the wall, falling into hysterics. "Oh, bloody Merlin that's brilliant!" Hermione nodded, looking proud of herself at her powers of deduction.

"But, what we were trying to figure out is where she got the idea that we were dating. I can't remember ever- well, doing anything that would make someone think that-" Harry blushed, despite the fact that his Godfather knew all about the confusing dynamics of his and Hermione's friendship/relationship/thing. "except maybe when Hermione hugged me before the first task. She must've gone off of that, because if she had been around when we thought no one else was, she'd have a lot more to talk about than the Potter-Granger-Krum love triangle. You know, like escaped convicts on the loose in Hogsmeade and what not."

"Alright." Sirius wiped his eyes on his robes. "So, she's picked up on your scheme with Krum, quicker than we thought anyone else would, but she hasn't heard anything she shouldn't." The two nodded. "Is there any chance that Krum could've let something slip?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, there's no chance of that. Ever since I approached him about this, he's been completely in agreement. He puts up this charade to keep girls from bothering him, to irritate Karkaroff and to eventually escape from his family and Durmstrang, as well as get out of the Triwizard tournament, all under the impression that he's chasing after his soul mate and giving everything up for her-" Hermione allowed herself to snicker with the others at the idiocy of the common magical community, "and all the while he'll be getting his own home and pursuing his dreams, whatever those may be. In exchange, Harry and I get to keep our relationship a secret and keep working to get this whole-" at a loss for words, Hermione threw her hands in the air- "situation under control."

Sirius nodded again. "So, that's all set. Now, onto business." He grabbed a few large pieces of parchment and began to unroll them, only to be interrupted by Harry jumping up and crying out, "I almost forgot!"

He began to dig through his backpack again as Hermione finished unrolling the parchments. He pulled out a bundle of clothing and handed it to Sirius, alone with a pair of boots and a handful of rubber bands. Sirius bounced happily as he examined the pair of pants, two shirts, socks, underwear and thick, sturdy robe Harry had brought him, as well as the boots. "Got tired of you looking like an unwashed dog in your human form," Harry explained with a grin.

Sirius teared up and hugged his godson. "Oh, pup, you didn't have to do this. But thank you." Without even a hint of modesty, he yanked off the filthy robes and looked down at himself with a grimace. Hermione blushed and kept her eyes on the parchment while Harry cast a cleaning charm on Sirius. As soon as he had his clothes on and the two had settled on the floor with her, she sat up and tried to look serious.

"Now then, let's get on with it." Sirius pulled out the everlasting quill Harry had brought him weeks before and put it between his teeth. Hermione and Harry nodded, pulling out their notes, or diaries, as some muggles might call them.

"Things we know," Sirius read off. "Time to update the list?"

"Definitely."

"Right then..." he got ready to add on to the extensive list. "Mad-eye Moody is definitely not himself. He's an impostor. Do we know this for sure yet?"

Hermione nodded, flipping through her journal. "Yes, I asked him about his Order of Merlin, first class, and he told me that infamous story of how he took down eleven death eaters at once."

Sirius shook his head. "Whoever it is doesn't know as much about Moody as he or she should. I thought it was common knowledge Moody refused to accept those things."

Harry nodded in agreement, glancing at his own journal. "Next, Barty Crouch is either missing, dead, or in hiding, and he didn't inform his co-workers or colleagues of any intention to leave."

Sirius scribbled this down, chewing on one of the many pieces of muggle chewing gum Harry had brought him. "D'you think it could be Crouch pretending to be Moody?"

Harry shook his head. "No, he would know all about Moody and his exploits, what with being his boss for so long... wouldn't he?"

"Unless he was pretending... but that would mean he knows that we know he's not Moody, and..." Hermione shook her head. "Well, let's not go into that, it's a little far-fetched."

Harry nodded in agreement. "Now, what's next..." He turned the page in his journal. "The Weasley twins don't trust Dumbledore, of that I'm almost absolutely sure."

Hermione looked startled. "When did you figure this out?"

Harry handed her his journal. "They're planning on opening a business, a joke shop, and they've been doing quite a lot of research lately. They've even making some arrangements to get their own bank account at Gringotts. They're doing all of this behind Dumbledore's back, and at first I thought it was because they didn't want their mother finding out, but..." he shook his head. "I've talked with them a few times, and that's not the case. They've been arguing with their mum via owl over the joke-shop thing for quite some time, and she knows some of what they've been doing lately. But they're still very secretive and try to stay out from under Dumbledore's radar as much as possible. I don't think the Weasley parents have any reason to distrust Dumbledore, but the twins do."

"What could it be?" Hermione chewed nervously on her bottom lip. "He's let them get away with so much over the years, you would think they would trust him, at least to an extent..."

"Perhaps they think if he knew of their plans he would try to stop them."

Harry and Hermione looked at Sirius, surprised. "But why would Dumbledore care about a joke shop?"

"Not the joke shop." Sirius took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You remember what I told you about the Order?" Both of them nodded. "Well, back then, it only seemed rational to give up your life-plans to defeat Voldemort- after all, you'd probably be murdered no matter what if he got to power. Your mother gave up several promising positions, things that had never been offered to a muggleborn before. Your father could've become a full-fledged Auror before he was even of age, but he didn't. Lupin was excelling in tons of fields, mostly studying magical creatures and potions, and he could've been something great until his secret was discovered. And I..." he became solemn. "I had plans as well. I had dreams and ambitions that didn't involve a great stupid dark lord. But, we all gave up what we wanted to be in Dumbledore's order and fight Voldemort. He didn't even have to ask us. However, now, things are different. Not everyone is going to jump at the chance to give up their dreams to go chasing after a dark lord that's half-dead."

Hermione gasped. "You mean, he's asked them to bugger their plans and just help find Voldemort?"

Sirius nodded. "It's definately a possibility." He thought for another moment. "They're smart enough to pretend to go along with it, too, and he would definately start with Fred and George, as Charlie and William already have careers, and Percy doesn't seem likely. Yes, he would want their interest so that Molly and Arthur would follow. They wouldn't join the Order now because they wouldn't want to put their children in danger. However, if it was to keep an eye on their children and keep the family together, it would be a different story."

Harry shuddered. "I can't believe he would..." he chose not to finish the thought. The look on his face was enough to convey the betrayal he felt. He sighed as Sirius leaned over and hugged him with more strength than he thought the man could have in his state. Hermione smiled at the two from her place beside Harry, more than a little surprised when Sirius grabbed her as well and pulled her into the hug, causing both of them to blush.

"Oh, you two are so cute! Have you kissed yet?" Hermione gasped, turning red. Harry tried to act like he hadn't heard. Sirius laughed hard at the two blushing fourteen-year-olds. Things were better now than they had been in so long, even if some nutter was messing up Harry's life.

"Oh, get serious," Hermione said before she could stop herself. Sirius erupted into another fit of laughter. "Really! So- so, cutting to the chase... are we going to be able to do it soon?" Hermione tried to fight the blood that had rushed to her face from earlier.

Sirius caught his breath and began to roll up the parchment. "Well..." he took another breath. "Yes, and no. We're ready as far as what you needed to do at Hogwarts. I've finished my part of the paperwork and you two have, as well... you've been accepted, as well." As though on an afterthought, he handed several envelopes to Hermione. "So, except for saying a few goodbyes and making a large withdrawal from Gringotts, we're ready."

The two students nodded. "That's the yes part." Hermione observed. "What's the no?"

Sirius looked them both in the eye. "Are you two sure you can do this? Can you handle this?"

Harry nodded slowly. "It's not... It's not as if we'll never see anyone ever again." He laughed half-heartedly. "We're not going to another dimension or something."

Hermione nodded as well. "It's not going to be easy, but, it's best, isn't it?"

"Are you asking or telling?" Sirius raised an eyebrow.

Hermione sat up straighter. "Telling. We know this is right. It's hard, but... it's right. It's the best thing to do."

Sirius looked at Harry. "What about Ron?"

The two fell silent. "That's the hardest part," Harry whispered. "We know better than to try to get him involved... he can't leave his family, his world. He belongs here in ways we don't. He wouldn't be happy anywhere else."

Sirius hugged the young man once more. "I suppose you two are ready then. You know, you've really got Skeeter to thank for this. Without this stupid article, you two would have to wait even longer. This is evidence enough to set everything in motion." Everyone smiled at the irony.

Hermione suddenly giggled. She tried to stop, but after a moment she fell sideways and began to laugh without restraint.

Harry looked at Sirius, confused and a little frightened at Hermione's apparent madness. Sirius mouthed 'women' and shook his head with a smirk.

"I just- think about it- the look on- on their faces-" she began to cough. "The look on their faces when we drop this dungbomb on them. It's- it's going to be priceless-" She began to laugh once more, and Harry had to smile at her mirth.

"This isn't going to be considered a declaration of war, is it?" Sirius burst out laughing as well at Harry's sudden concern.

"Harry... think about our Ministry. Fudge. Dumbledore. You think they're going to take on the whole world? Cause trouble like that? They'd be ousted so quickly, they wouldn't even know what'd hit them." Harry sighed at the two giggling children in front of him, then admitted to himself that, however sad it was, it was kind of funny in a way that you had to focus on to keep from crying.

* * *

Aside from the fire crackling in the Gryffindor common room, all was silent. Hermione filled out an instant-order form for Flourish and Blotts, checking every book on the long list that looked interesting. She'd already done this several times before, but on this night she had a sudden bout of pre-nostalgia and decided to order as many books as she could on Hogwarts. Harry was lying on the couch, his head on her lap. It was easy to see that they were much calmer and closer than they had even been in front of others. Hermione was rather relaxed as well, even though she never felt comfortable using the money in Harry's vault, no matter how many times he told her it was all right. Her love of knowledge was the only thing that overcame her reluctance.

Harry sighed, putting down the snitch he'd been toying with. "Do you think we'll regret it?"

His voice was so full of concern Hermione had to put down her quill and the form. "Harry?"

"Do you think we'll regret it? Do you think... do you think it'll be horrid? Do you think Ron will hate us? Do you think Mrs. Weasley will ever forgive us? Do you think we'll be considered villains, like Sirius? That people will give us looks wherever we go and we'll never be trusted again? And-"

Hermione shushed him before his voice rose any further. "Harry, we've already thought about all of that. What happens is what happens. We have to do this, you said so yourself." He only nodded, stretching as he sat up and off of Hermione's lap.

"I guess I'm just nervous." He looked into the fire as he spoke. "Guess I'm just afraid I'm not strong enough."

A moment of silence passed before Hermione grabbed Harry and turned him around, lunging toward him and crushing her lips against his. It wasn't what they imagined; Hermione's hands holding Harry's robe from where she had turned him around, Harry's neck slightly sore from lying in her lap so awkwardly for so long, and her shoe getting caught on her skirt and making it very awkward for her to stay balanced on the couch, on her knees and leaning against Harry for support. But it took Harry's breath away and it was perfect. It was his first kiss and it was so wicked and he was trying not to smile, because he didn't want to break it, but Hermione began to giggle, so he did as well.

Harry tried to think of something to say, but he couldn't. He just smiled, as did Hermione. "Not exactly how I imagined it," she admitted. "I thought you would do it. But it was.." she simply smiled and sat more comfortably next to him. "It was the best first kiss ever."

Harry grinned. "Well you only have one, so technically-" he stopped as she smacked him in the arm, giggling and shaking her head, happy that he was sufficiently distracted.

"But it _was _the best first kiss ever, you're right about that."

She smiled even wider as she finished checking off the list of books she wanted and handed the form back to Harry. "Hermione, why don't you just check what you don't want? It wouldn't take so long then." He chuckled at her offended pout, pulling out his wand and tapping the form. The form disappeared, and in a few seconds another piece of paper appeared.

_Mr. Potter,_

_Your order has been processed. Your order will be sent to your safety deposit vault at Gringotts bank, as requested. The gold has been removed from your account._

_Please contact your Goblin liaison if you have any further questions._

Without an excuse to remain downstairs, Hermione hugged Harry against and stood. "We need to get some sleep."

Harry nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow." Just before he left for the boys' dormitory, he leaned forward and kissed Hermione very quickly on the lips. He tried to quell his happy grin as he headed to bed, as did Hermione on her way upstairs.

* * *

REVIEW. Or, in the words of Bon Qui Qui, "Girl, I will _cut. you_."


	2. Trust No One

Disclaimer: Things would be veryyyy different if I owned the Harry Potter universe. Oh yes... veryyy different... for one, Snape wouldn't be killed by a Snake in a bubble. Come _on_, let him go out with some dignity.

A/N: I was very happy when I saw the reviews! I admit I squeed for the first time in years when I check my account the next morning. It melted the stress of... well, life, away. And since I'm done scholarshipping for college and what not, (for good- all four years covered! WOOT!) I haven't got much out-of-school work to do... and therefor I'm indulging in my creative-Harry-Potter side. And it's very fulfilling. :D

A/N/PS: It's not cliche. I do it my own way. You'll know. You'll know. Oh, and btw, nothing is off limits to being altered as far as Harry's life goes. As you'll see...

A/N/P/PS: Sorry this took forever, it was 90% done by last Wednesday, but I had to leave to run a convention till Sunday. Then my roommates treated me like Harry at the Dursleys- seriously- and I got my revenge (The marauders would be seriously proud) and was promptly removed from the hotel. So I got back early!

A/N/P/P/PS: I love flashbacks. It allows me to tell a complicated story without having to adhere to the constraints of time. Chronological order is for newbies. :D I'll warn you though, I know it can get complicated. Like I said, nothing is off limits. Hope you can keep up.

* * *

**Dear Mr. Potter,**

We are very pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at the Salem Institute for Magically Gifted Witches, Wizards, and Others .

This year we have an entering class of 364 students, out of the several tens of thousands who applied. We are faced with the essays, transcripts and stories of all of these talented young people, and we strive to accept only the individuals with exceptional character as well as unusual talents and strengths. Your application has convinced us that you will make very important contributions to our world during your stay at Salem's, as well as throughout your life.

If you have applied for financial assistance, you will receive the acceptance or rejection of your plea in a separate letter to be delivered no later than one week after this letter.

We need to know by two weeks from the date this letter was delivered whether you plan on accepting our offer of admission.

When we have received your letter of acceptance, you will be sent information on school supplies, texts, and cost.

We very much hope that you will decide to join us this fall.

_Sincerely,_

_**Abigail Williams-Proctor, Headmistress**__._

* * *

**Dear Mr. Potter,**

We at the Salem Institute for Magically Gifted Witches, Wizards, and Others must inform you that your request for financial assistance has been denied on the grounds that you have failed to show sufficient need.

We apologize for any inconvenience. If you would like to dispute this claim, or you feel there has been a mistake, please contact our Head of Finances within ten days of receiving this letter.

_Sincerely,_

_**Mary Warren, Head of Finances**_

* * *

**Dear Mr. Potter,**

Enclosed is your housing contract for the first three tri-mesters of your education here at the Salem Institute for Magically Gifted Witches, Wizards, and Others. Please return promptly with an international notice of gold transfer, in the amount of the requested deposit, from your national bank.

You have been awarded your first choice room, a private suite, three bedroom, in Walcott Hall, or the South wing of the Witches-in-the-Wood dormitory building.

You will meet your roommates when you arrive on move-in day. Any and all requests for specific roommates will be ignored.

_Sincerely,_

_**Mary Warren, Head of Finances**_

* * *

Harry glowered at his letter. "I don't understand it!" he growled.

Hermione shushed him, looking around the common room. "We'll figure it out, Harry. There must be some mistake."

"I can't afford to just fork over this huge deposit! The gold my parents left me is enough to mess about with, quite a lot to mess about with really, but it's nothing compared to what they want me to pay!" He set the letter on the table, shaking his head. "Why didn't Sirius _say_ anything?"

"He read it?" Hermione glanced at the envelope. "It was already open?"

"Yeah, he read it. He read all my letters, I told him he could. I trust him."

"Of course. Well, then it must not be that big of a problem, Harry." Hermione looked relieved. "If Sirius isn't worried, you shouldn't be. Maybe he has enough to cover it all himself. He'll be let into his accounts today."

"I suppose-"

Both Harry and Hermione started as the sound of footsteps became audible. Somebody was coming into the common room.

"Who would be up at three-thirty at night?" Hermione demanded in a whisper, ducking behind the couch where Harry was.

"Besides us?"

"Shh!"

From the staircase emerged Ginny, dressed for the day's classes and looking more than a little forlorn. They could tell by the slight redness of her cheeks that she had been crying recently and hadn't bothered to cover it up. Over what, Harry had no idea, but Ginny opened the portrait and left the room without even glancing around. Harry and Hermione remained where they were in case she returned, but after several minutes they decided it was safe enough to emerge.

"Harry." Hermione straightened her robes and looked him dead in the eye, ignoring Ginny's surprising entrance completely. "Listen to me. Sirius knows they rejected your plea, and he's obviously already found a solution, so you don't need to worry about that right now. We still have a few days. Everything is working like it should and we haven't got any time to waste. We've got to get moving."

Harry stood, looking at his best friend, failing to hold back a soft smile. "You're right as always, Hermione."

She nodded curtly. "About time you acknowledged it."

He snickered as she turned on her heel, picked up her bag, and opened the portrait hole for both of them. Harry picked up his book bag and followed after her, stopping only for a moment to look back at the common room he had spent so much of his life in. So many games of exploding snap, days spent watching the twins prank the younger years, and dark evenings spent brooding over life. The room where he'd only recently had his first kiss!

And he was leaving it for others to enjoy.

Though the thought saddened him, it wasn't enough to keep him from closing the door and following Hermione as they both left for good.

* * *

_**The Train Ride to Hogwarts, Harry's Year Three...**_

"Who is _that_?"

"Professor R. J. Lupin," Hermione whispered, glaring at Ron for his volume.

Harry examined the man asleep against the window; his shabby robes that were more patches than actual material, his sickly complexion, the gray hair that ran through his light brown despite his youthful appearance...

"How-"

"On his case."

"Oh... of course." Ron blushed. Hermione, however, looked unsettled. She was staring at the man's suitcase as though she expected it to open. As though she should know his name from somewhere.

"Hermione? Hermione? Her-mi-on-e Granger? Are you alright?"

Shaking herself, she nodded and sat down, waving for Ron to hurry and do the same. "Come on Harry, we've got to tell Ron what we found out about Sirius Black!"

"You two have been asking around about him? I wouldn't think anyone would want to talk about him, mum and dad sure don't..."

Harry shook his head. "They just don't want us to know. I overheard them. Turns out this guy-" he tossed a copy of the Daily Prophet he had bought from the archives at Flourish and Blotts, frowning at the insane man on the cover, screaming and shaking- "broke out of Azkaban to find me."

Ron gasped, the color draining from his face. Even Hermione, who had been told a week before, looked sick. "But Harry... why would some nutter break out of prison to find you?... Because you're the one who 'offed' you-know-who?"

Hermione quickly pulled a book from her satchel and heaved it onto Ron's lap. It looked older than Hogwarts, as thick as Goyle was wide, and the cover showed a complicated coat of arms with french writing underneath. "It's all in here. We found it... well, at a bookstore your mum didn't see us go to, let's just say that. Sirius Black's family, all pureblood nutters from way back, Dark Arts supporters, and stuff on how Black... well, on how he was friends with Harry's parents."

Ron gaped at her, carefully opening the book in front of him. "From Hogwarts? He went to school with them?"

Hermione nodded. "He was one of their closest friends. There were a few others, but it doesn't really talk about them, just about how Sirius was removed from the family for associating with-" she turned to a page she had marked and read aloud- "half-breeds, mudbloods, blood-traitors and thieves."

Ron looked at the page in front of him, shaking his head. "Blimey, Harry, how did you take all this? He grew up with your parents but he joined you-know-who?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't really know what to think... we- well, Hermione and I- we asked some people in Diagon Alley we thought we could trust. Ollivander, some old shop owners, parents we saw, people who knew my parents from way back when..."

"And they all had a different story." Hermione huffed. "Some say that Black was Voldemort's secret weapon, because he was so close to the Potters, and that he sold them out so he could help take over the world." She rolled her eyes a little at the dramatic statement.

"But some said that he tricked Voldemort into it and was probably behind my surviving the curse and doing away with the dark lord, that he double crossed the dark _and _the light, all for himself, so he could be the next dark lord..."

"Wait, wait." Ron held up his hands. "It says here in the paper that Black went after Pettigrew right after you-know-who disappeared. Why would he care about some random death eater if he was going to be the next evil lord? Why would he go off and kill someone like that? Then stand around and let himself get caught!"

Hermione pulled out a muggle folder and flipped through the pages she had collected. "Well, you see, we were looking at some of the newspapers from when it all happened, and we're not sure, but we think Pettigrew might have been in on it."

"You mean he was probably a death eater too?!"

"Maybe. He could've been one of the Potters' closest friends as well. He might have know something about Black, a weakness or something." Hermione pulled a few articles out and laid them on the floor. "Look here, it's an article about how five boys almost got expelled. It doesn't say what for, it just says that a boy was put in danger and that they were all out after hours and doing something that definitely wasn't allowed. It was a big deal, a bunch of parents got really angry about the 'lack of security' at Hogwarts and stuff, especially since Voldemort was out and about... anyway, look at the names!"

Ron glanced down, scanning the article with a worried look. "James Potter... Sirius Black..." he frowned. "A fifth-year Slytherin who wishes to remain anonymous... and two young students who's surnames will not be revealed due to concern over their families' safety... must be muggle-borns... Misters Remus and Peter of Gryffindor..." Ron shook his head, disgusted. "That must've been him. I guess he was friends with your parents too, Harry. Blimey, I guess you really _couldn't_ trust anyone back then, could you?"

As if on cue, a high-pitched whistling could be heard from somewhere in the compartment. All three of them glanced around, confused, until Harry suddenly remembered where he'd heard the noise before. He reached into his bag and pulled out the Sneakoscope Ron had bought him long before.

Hermione gasped. "Is that what I think it is?" She snatched it from Harry's hands and watched as it spun rapidly and glowed brighter and brighter.

Harry looked around the compartment. "Who could be untrustworthy?" He looked at Ron, who threw up his hands, then at Hermione, who simply shrugged before glancing at the corner where their professor slept. She promptly screamed and threw the Sneakoscope into the air, falling into her seat as Ron and Harry leapt up with their wands ready.

"What is it?!"

A soft snickering turned into hearty laughter as the man in the corner of the compartment watched Hermione shake her finger at him threateningly and open her mouth, speechless.

"I apologize, I didn't mean to frighten you, Miss Granger. I thought you realized I was awake."

She took a breath and lowered her hand, suddenly realizing the man in front of her was a teacher. "I'm sorry, professor. I was just startled, that's all. I hadn't looked at you since we got in here, and, well... you scared me."

The man, Professor Lupin presumably, nodded as he glanced down at the Sneakoscope that was whirring faster than ever. "Is that a real one?"

Harry nodded, picking it up. "I'll just put it up, I can muffle it with some socks or something..."

"It's not a wise move to ignore a warning when you have one." The professor held out his hand questioningly. Harry handed him the Sneakoscope, wondering if he would ever get it back.

"I'm sorry it woke you, professor. It won't happen again." Harry watched as the Sneakoscope slowed slightly in the professor's hands. Was he allowed to have it?

"No, no, Mr. Potter, it's quite alright. I've been awake for some time. I apologize, I should have made my presence known." He cleared his throat. "I'm your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Hermione stood up, very professionally, and held out her hand. "Hermione Granger."

The professor smiled at her and shook her hand, ignoring the snickers of the two others. "It's nice to see such confidence in someone so young, Miss Granger."

She nodded, looked embarrassed, and sat. Harry felt her eyes on him and followed suit, leaning over to shake Lupin's hand.

"Harry Potter, though you probably already knew that."

"Indeed, Harry."

"And I'm Ron. Ron Weasley." He held out his hand as well.

"Remus Lupin."

Hermione leapt from her seat almost as though she were having a fit. "_You!_"

"Me?"

Hermione nodded excitedly. "You, you're Remus Lupin, Remus from Gryffindor in the article. You were one of the two who didn't want to be named. You knew Sirius Black!"

Harry exhaled sharply. "You knew my parents!"

Ron's mouth fell wide open, watching Lupin for any kind of unpleasant reaction. To their surprise, he only nodded, looking down at the compartment floor.

"Yes," he murmured, his mind suddenly somewhere else. "I grew up with your father, Harry, and I knew your mother as well."

"Well what are you waiting for?" Harry slid down the bench until he was next to Lupin. "Tell me everything."

Lupin raised his eyebrows. "From the beginning?"

"No, no, tell us about Sirius Black!" Hermione didn't even attempt to hide her curiosity. "I mean, Harry, I know you want to hear about your parents, but Black is a little more important at the moment, don't you think?"

Harry nodded, joining in her excitement. "Yes, tell us about him. Why would he want to kill me? Was he Voldemort's secret weapon? What makes him so dangerous?"

Lupin stood and made sure the compartment door was shut and locked before he spoke. Even then, he put a silencing charm on the door.

"It's quite a long story, Harry. I can't just give you the answers. I don't know most of them myself."

"Well." Hermione thought for a minute, pulling a pad of paper and a muggle pen from her bag. "Let's just start with facts, then."

"Facts?"

"Provable, indisputable facts. They're always the best place to start."

Lupin nodded in agreement. "Well, ask away."

"Was Sirius Black a Death Eater?"

Lupin groaned. "That's a loaded question. I suppose the _short_ answer is yes."

"Did you see his dark mark?"

"Er- no. No, I never saw a dark mark."

Hermione made a note. "Did Dumbledore?"

"I'm not sure. I'm sure somebody did."

"Well, who?"

"I don't know for a fact."

Hermione continued to scribble away. "But..." Harry ran a hand through his hair. "He was put in prison, so there had to have been proof he was a death eater. Why wouldn't they have just looked for the mark? Doesn't that count as proof?"

"They did have evidence against him even without a mark, I'm sure, but I cannot recall the presence of the mark being what led to his arrest. There were witnesses to his crime."

"Where can we find the names of those witnesses?" Hermione turned a page in her notes. "In a ministry record? A newspaper?"

Lupin leaned back, looking as deep in thought as Harry did. "I don't think you could get a hold of the records of the witnesses. They were muggles, and they were all Obliviated. They would have used one or two of their memories for evidence, though."

"But there wasn't a trial." Hermione reminded them. "They didn't need any concrete evidence to get him into Azkaban. The ministry was processing people and putting them in prison without a trial, to save time. So they wouldn't have needed to collect evidence."

"Yes, something most of us were in favor of back during Voldemort's reign. It was too easy for captured criminals to weasel their way out of going to prison..."

"But why not after?"

Lupin cocked his head to the side, almost like a dog. "What do you mean?"

"After Voldemort fell. Why couldn't they have the trial then?"

Lupin's eyebrows shot up. "Well, I suppose nobody felt there was a need. After the ministry reported the murder of a wizard and thirteen muggles and what had been said and done, there was no doubt that Black was working for Voldemort."

Hermione put down her pad and continued to interrogate Lupin, her voice rising slightly. "You mean none of those people were given a trial? But people like the Malfoys _were_? They're allowed to walk free when there should have been 'no doubt' that they were death eaters, but these other people go to jail just because they were caught at a different _time_?"

Lupin sighed, nodding his head. "It doesn't seem right, I know. Perhaps things should have been done differently. But the times were hard, exceptions had to be made-"

Ron spoke up, glad to contribute to the investigation. "But Black didn't even murder Pettigrew until after Voldemort was defeated! Everybody was celebrating as soon as the news got 'round. We didn't have to use all those methods, did we? The pressure was off."

Hermione nodded. "It's true. Besides, how do they know the murder wasn't just a separate event? Perhaps those 'exceptions' shouldn't have even applied!"

"Because," Lupin said, his face darkening. "There were things going on that people were unaware of; things even the ministry didn't know about. But I shouldn't say anymore."

"You've already come this far, Professor. Please, he's supposed to be after me. I'd like to know, at least, why he would want to kill me."

The professor leaned forward. "I can understand that Harry, but..." he sighed. "You must understand, I didn't expect to be retelling the past on the train ride to Hogwarts. I feel unprepared."

Hermione looked at Harry, urging him to go on. He continued, feeling only a little guilty. "Maybe if I know why he wants to kill me, I can defend myself, or at least know when to ask for help."

He seemed to have said the right thing. Lupin leaned forward again, drawing the three teens closer. "If you really feel you must know..." unless he was imagining it, Harry thought he saw the corner of the professor's mouth twitch upward. "Then you'll have to come to my office tomorrow afternoon, won't you?"

Harry wailed and Hermione had to stop herself from striking a teacher, which would have been unforgivable. Even Ron was disappointed!

* * *

_**Harry's 11**__**th**__** Birthday**_

Diagon Alley was the most spectacular place Harry had ever laid eyes on. To his left, a shop had just opened up where cauldrons were sold. All sizes, copper, brass, pewter, silver, self-stirring, collapsible- all stacked outside of the shop. A man, tall and lanky with cropped blonde hair, waved at Harry, beckoning him to come over, but Hagrid quickly reminded him they needed to get his money first.

Harry still couldn't contain himself. Besides the cauldrons, there were so many things to look at Harry thought he would get dizzy. There were people walking around in pointed hats and capes, looking at him as though he were the strange one, an Apothecary, dark and creepy looking with a strong smell like alcohol, something called Eeylops Owl Emporium, with 'Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy' owls for sale, a store filled with broomsticks and young boys about Harry's age, a shop for wizarding clothing, a shop for telescopes and silver things Harry didn't know what to call, shops with things like bat spleens and snake eyes, shops for just parchments and ink, as well as things like maps and globes, and a bookstore several stories high the likes of which Harry had never laid eyes on. He stopped only when Hagrid nudged him, looking straight ahead. "Gringotts," was all he said.

Harry looked at the white building towering over all the others, gasping as Hagrid explained to him about goblins and dragons. They approached a goblin at the end of the hall who seemed to sneer as Hagrid cleared his throat. "We're here ter take some money outta Mr. Harry Potter's safe."

The goblin glowered at Hagrid, then leaned over his desk to get a good look at Harry. "Do you have your key, Mr. Harry Potter?"

Harry shook his head, wondering why the goblin looked so angry.

"OH!" Hagrid began to dig through his coat. "I got it here somewhere..."

The goblin sat up straight, looking affronted. "Why are _you_ in possession of Mr. Harry Potter's key?"

Hagrid blanched. "Well, Mr. Dumbledore sir gave it to me. Fer Harry, o'course!"

The goblin took the key from Hagrid's hand and examined it carefully. After a moment, he stepped down from behind his desk and put his hand on the back of Harry's neck. Harry wondered if it was meant to be friendly. "I will take young Mister Potter to his vault. Others may not enter."

"But Dumbledore-"

"Rules established by the Potter family when the vault was opened, centuries ago." The goblin bared his teeth as though Hagrid meant to challenge him. "They cannot be changed until Mister Potter comes of age and makes the decision himself."

Hagrid shuffled his feet, more than a little put out. "Well there's somethin' else, too. I got a letter from Professor Dumbledore. About the You-Know-What we're to be movin'."

The goblin took the letter without a word. "Very well. Griphook!"

Another goblin emerged from the shadows of an adjoining corridor. He showed all his teeth to the three of them. "Yes?"

The first goblin finally released Harry and left to speak with Griphook. Harry quickly stepped to Hagrid's side. "They aren't going to hurt me, are they?"

"No, Harry, they won't. They haven't got a reason to, have they?"

"I suppose not."

* * *

"This way, Mister Potter. The key goes here."

Harry did as the goblin said, trying to look brave despite the face that the goblins scared the hell out of him. Several clicking noises could be heard as the key turned on it's own, and after a moment, the door swung open, clouds of green smoke nearly choking Harry in the process.

"Here is your gold, Mister Potter. May I enter?"

Harry nodded, stepping forward. The mounds of gold, and silver- they couldn't be his, could they? There was just... so much!

"Here you are, Mister Potter." Harry started, turning. The goblin handed him what looked like a potato sack with drawstrings.

"Erm, what is it?"

The goblin raised what would've been, on a human, an eyebrow. "A bag, Mister Potter. Were you going to carry the gold in your arms?"

Harry blushed. "Of course not. I, I just meant, is there anything... magical about the bag?"

"Not now. But for a small price, Mister Potter, I can make it featherlight, so that you can carry it with ease. I can also shrink it, so that you may carry it in your pocket. Everything put into the bag will shrink along with it, and you have Gringott's guarantee that no harm will come to the contents."

"Can I carry more than money? Can I put things in there as well?"

"You could, Mister Potter. However, it can become quite tiresome to have to search through everything in the bag for gold. I would recommend simply buying two, one for purchases and the other for funds."

Harry nodded. "That makes sense. Okay then, I'll just take two, both shrinking and featherlight, please."

The goblin nodded, grabbing two Galleons from the vault and pocketing them. From the inside of his vest he pulled another bag and handed it to Harry. This one was about as large as a grown man's fist, but Harry knew he could probably fit anything he wanted in it. Perhaps even Dudley?

"There's one more thing, Mister Potter." The goblin beckoned him forward and to the farthest corner of the vault. Harry was surprised to see the stone walls were not simply flat, but that drawers had been carved into them. The goblin conjured a stepping stool from nothing and climbed to the tallest one, a good ten feet above Harry's head.

"Your parents and grandparents wished you to have this as soon as you came of age to attend school." He removed a small, flat box and slid back down to Harry. "They also wished me to inform you that this is a valuable family heirloom, obtained several generations ago, and that you are never, under any circumstances, to lend, give, sell or allow it to fall into the hands of anyone outside of the family. Otherwise, you may never get it back. There are many who would wish to get their hands on it."

Harry began to open the box, nervous and excited all at once. "Should I keep it a secret?"

"For the most part, yes. Tell only those you absolutely trust."

Harry lifted the fabric out of the box, amazed at it's long, glittering, flowing black color and soft texture. "What does it do?"

"It is an invisibility cloak, Mister Potter. Put it on, and no one will be able to see you. It will never wear, tear or age. It is one of a kind. There are other invisibility cloaks, of course, but this one is special. Why, or how, I am not at liberty to discuss with a human."

Harry quickly put it back in the box, as though someone would leap from the shadows and steal it from him right then. He pulled one of the bags from his pocket and, before he could even ask how, he watched as it grew large enough for the box to fit, then shrank again once more.

"There is one more thing, Mr. Potter."

Harry began to fill his bag with gold and silver. "Yes, sir?"

The goblin approached him and handed him the ornate silver key the vault had been opened with. "Do not return this to Hagrid. Do not entrust any other person with this key, no matter who they may be or what they say they will do with it."

Harry nodded and put the key in his bag. "Of course." Harry wondered briefly why the goblin seemed so concerned. They didn't appear to be very caring creatures, after all.

When he decided he had enough money to last him a year, he prepared to leave, excited to go shopping for his school supplies. The goblin handed him a folder before he reached the cart, looking very serious.

"This is the record of what _should_ be in your vault, Mr. Potter, and something is not right. We are not yet sure of what, but your vault will be under investigation until we discover what exactly has been going on. You will still have access to it, of course."

Harry swallowed. "What's happening to my vault? Has there been some kind of error?"

"Goblins do not make mistakes, Mister Potter." The goblin appeared to take a deep breath, perhaps offended. "Something has been happening to your vault which will be stopped. This record will inform you of any important discoveries or changes made. But for the time being, Mister Potter, trust no one."

* * *

A/N: Haha, anyone know where the names are from? You shoulddd. :D And Lupin knew Hermione's name cause he was totally bein' sneaky and listening their conversation... like anyone would've! Oh, and fuck the whole dumbles-had-the-cloak-and-didn't-know-it-was-a-DH. That's crap. In my story, the Potters were a little more careful with family heirlooms.

Cateagle: Yes, it was North America. I didn't originally plan it, but I just don't want to put in the hardcore effort to research a totally different culture. Plus I'm working on another fic where they go to a different country that's more 'foreign'. NA is just easier.

Lanti: Yay! Thank you :D I know I love fics where I'm like wahhh what? So I kind of try to leave questions.

Melferd: Lol, no reason to be scared, I'm just crazy. Not really Luna-crazy, more Snape-crazy. But then again who knows.

Scout-01: Glad I could make you laugh.

Frustr8dwriter: My head inflates from your praise. Thanks!

Reminder 2#: Review. Pretty please. -waves shank in the air- ;D


	3. The Natural Look

A/N: I love it when Harry goes shopping. I love writing it and reading it. If you don't... oh well. I stopped caring.

Disclaimer: Come along now. I make nothing.

P/S/A/N: I luuuuurve Alorkin for the huge review!!! Gracias, arigatou, merci, thank you! It made my week :D

* * *

_5:00 A.M._

Harry and Hermione shivered slightly in the early morning chill as they waited. The sky was low and grey, and the humidity in the air foreshadowed heavy rain later that day. Harry was content to lie on the wet grass and stare up at the clouds, despite Hermione's protests.

"Your shirt will get wet."

"We are wizards, Hermione."

"_Actually_, I'm a witch."

"Oh, and there's a difference?" he blushed, pulling the girl down beside him. "Besides the obvious, I mean."

Hermione giggled. "Of course not. I think the names are just gender specifiers."

"Actually, the two are quite different."

Both the students jumped, their wands in their hands within seconds. Hermione looked the woman in front of her up and down. She was tall, thin, and had skin darker than Hermione had ever laid eyes on; darker than chocolate or cherry-wood, more like Arabian coffee. She looked as though she could easily be as old as McGonagall, if not older, and she seemed to carry herself with the same sense of dignity they so frequently saw in their head of house.

She seemed dressed in some sort of ceremonial garb, at least to Harry, who had never seen a witch in anything besides muggle clothes or a standard set of robes. She had her hair tied under a thin, red scarf, probably silk. She wore a long tunic with ornate embroidered patterns, orange, red, brown, gold, all the colors that brought to mind the smell of wet earth, the bloom of flowers, or the spring coming. Underneath the tunic she wore simple brown slacks and some sort of cloth around her chest that, Harry thought with a blush, was probably meant to hold up her breasts. On her feet she wore simple sandals, also brown. She stood over them without expression, evaluating the two.

After only a few seconds Hermione jumped to her feet. "Oh, sorry!" Hermione tried to brush herself off before remembering that she probably looked foolish. Two cleaning spells later, as Harry had stood as well, and the students looked presentable.

"Practicing your aeromancy?" The woman's voice was deep, majestic, the kind of voice that commanded attention and respect if only for it's beauty.

"No, maim, just... looking at the clouds."

"Aren't they one and the same?" Harry's face broke into a grin at the remark.

The elegant woman held her hand out to the two, smiling at last. "My name is Tituba Arawak. It is my preference that you call me either professor or madam Tituba."

They shook her hands and followed her as she began to trek up to the castle. She assured them that the representative from the Ministry would arrive soon, and that whatever fears they had, everything would run smoothly. It wasn't until they reached the lake that Hermione remembered what had been said earlier.

"What did you mean, Professor, when you said that 'the two are quite different'?" Hermione leaned forward unconsciously, going into her 'attentive student' mode. "Aren't a witch and a wizard the same thing?"

"Oh no, my dear Hermione. A witch and a wizard each practice a completely different branch of magic. You and Harry have been trained in wizardry, and at a rather modest pace, if I may say so."

Hermione looked curious and close to tears all at once. "Will we be so far behind that we can't catch up?"

"As long as you work hard, you will excel." She smiled at them once again. "You would not have been accepted to Salem's if we thought otherwise."

"And what about witches?" the corner of Harry's mouth twitched. "Am I going to be trained to be a... warlock?"

"No, Harry, a witch. We have never used the word warlock. And yes, you will be trained in witchcraft, _my _specialty."

"Are you the only teacher we'll learn it from?"

Tituba laughed, a deep, heartwarming sound. "Oh no, my dear, I teach classes on Potions and Brews of all kinds. A few basic overview courses, then, depending on the skill level of the students, several more advanced classes will be available to you."

"We've learned Potions here!" Hermione informed her. "So we won't be too far off, will we?" Her face fell for a moment. "Or is what we learn... outdated?"

"You have been learning a fair amount about basic potion making, although not near as much as you should. What you learn at Salem's will be much more in-depth."

They were interrupted by the distant yell from behind them. They stopped and turned to see a short man jogging toward them, holding his cloak against his chest and muttering under his breath about the cold. "Tituba, I apologize, I know you were told to meet me in the castle. I was running late and decided to apparate instead."

She smiled and presented the man to Harry and Hermione. "This is Fortune Thomas, a member of the North American Child Protection Service. He will be the one that will formally removing you from the jurisdiction of the British Ministry of Magic, as well as your Headmaster."

"Just as Madam Tituba will be the one formally removing you from Hogwarts and enrolling you in Salem's." The man smiled as he shook their hands. "I hope you two do well there."

"Of course we will." Harry said this before he could stop himself. Hermione flushed. "At least, we'll try, I mean." Fortune only grinned.

"Are we meeting Officer Corey here as well?"

"Afterwards," Tituba said, turning and pulling a cloak around herself. "We are ready for the meeting now."

* * *

_Harry's 11__th__ Birthday_

After reemerging in the alley, Harry managed to put the goblin's warning to the back of his mind. The sights and sounds once again filled him with excited energy, and he found he didn't feel like waiting for Hagrid to recover.

"Please, you can go on ahead, Hagrid. But can I _go_?" Harry tried to look pleading. He had watched his cousin do it plenty of times; it couldn't be that hard.

Hagrid nodded, still green. "Go on ahead then 'arry, get yer shoppin' done."

Harry left before Hagrid finished speaking, looking wildly about to see where to start. After a few moments, he picked a side and ran back to the Leaky Cauldron, deciding to hit each shop, one at a time. That way he couldn't miss anything.

-

Harry entered the Apothecary, looking around the dark room curiously. Slimy stuff in barrels lined the walls and shelves were stacked with powders, herbs, feathers, fangs, and bigger parts of animals hung from the ceiling. Once you were inside, the smell wasn't so bad, he mused. It smelled nice, in a weird way. It wasn't like alcohol, as he had originally thought, but something else, mustier.

"Can I help you?" An older man appeared behind the counter, watching Harry. His hair was greasy, as well as the small beard he was stroking. "Looking for anything specific?"

Harry tried not to sound nervous. "No, sir. I was just looking around. I've never been to an Apothecary before, and I'm not sure what I should get..."

"And you're a first year student?" The man looked suddenly excited. "Well, we don't get many students coming in here. Most of them work out of the Potion stores at Hogwarts."

Harry nodded, trying not to look ignorant. "I just need some basic, beginner stuff." He glanced around at all of the things in the shop, overwhelmed by it all. He wasn't even sure what 'beginner stuff' was!

The store owner seemed to, though. "Here we are." He pulled a large box off of a top shelf and handed it to Harry. "All the most basic Potion making ingredients, and a few extras. All packed up in a kit for you younger brewers."

Harry grinned, looking the box over and reading the list of contents. "This is awesome! What else should I get?" Harry realized, of course, this was not a wise thing to ask a shop owner, but with a bagful of gold, he couldn't bring himself to care. Twenty minutes later, with several small bottles of armadillo bile, essence of belladonna as well as petals, pieces and powders of beetles, billywigs, bicorn, nettles, fangs of various creatures, slugs, porcupine quills, bundimun, bugs such as caterpillars and grasshoppers, and sneezewort, Harry decided he was satisfied. "How much?"

-

The next shop was Quality Quidditch Supplies. Harry wondered around the store, more than a little overwhelmed by all of the colors and sounds. In one corner of the store, a small tornado suddenly appeared, sweeping one child off of their feet, much to their parent's dismay. Other children were gathered around a model of a broom, talking excitedly. Harry remembered with a ping that he couldn't have his own broom, as he was a first year.

Not that he needed it; he didn't even know how to work a broomstick. Or how to play "Quidditch".

His eyes fell on a small magazine rack near the register. Harry quickly grabbed a few different Quidditch magazines and paid for them, wondering if he could find a book on the game before he went to school.

-

Harry didn't think a stationary shop would be that interesting, but it was. Before he even remembered he had never written to anybody, nor did he have anybody to write to, he had bought several large stacks of parchment, some enchanted to smell like different things, some spelled to correct his spelling, some that had decorative moving borders. He bought a number of quills as well, and different bottles of ink.

When he wondered aloud how to store the ink without breaking it, the woman behind the counter sold him on a book bag- which he needed to get one of anyway- that, even if dropped or beaten, would cushion the bottles and quills to ensure they did not break.

-

Harry walked into Flourish and Blotts and tried not to faint.

The store was filled to the brim with books. Books on every subject, every genre, and every magical thing Harry could ever hope to learn about. Some were taller than him and some were the size of a postage stamp. He found himself pulling out stacks of books and nearly falling over from the weight before the owner told him to tap the book three times with his knuckles and it would appear at his desk.

While at first Harry was wary to select books with the word "advanced" in the title, he saw another young student a few metres ahead of him, picking out every book no matter the skill level required. She couldn't have been older than him, Harry reasoned, so what can it hurt? He would at least be prepared in the future.

The first book Harry layed eyes on was The Standard Book of Spells, Grade One. Harry snatched it off the shelf and frowned when he realized there were no other copies for the other grades. He had been hoping to get a look at what he would learn in school, perhaps to get a better idea...

"Are you looking for Grade Two?"

Harry jumped and turned to the girl. "Yes, I'm sorry."

She raised an eyebrow. "No need to be sorry. I was just wondering that myself. You see, I don't know how things are set up here, they do seem to be rather willy-nilly, at a bookstore back home they would all be together, but as I didn't really grow up in the Wizarding World, I'm not quite sure..." She realized she was rambling. "I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself, have I? I'm Hermione Granger." Harry shook her outstretched hand, blushing. "Well, do you know where they are?"

"Um, no." Harry shook his head. "I don't know. I wish I did, though."

The girl, Hermione, smiled. "I'll go ask the shopkeeper. Could you watch my things for me?" Before he could answer, she turned and strode purposefully away. Harry, not knowing exactly what was expected of him, as all of her things were in no danger of disappearing, returned to perusing the shelf.

An aisle of books on "Charms" caught his eye, and Harry pulled all the most interesting books off the shelf, including the required Magical Theory. He bought an anthology and a few books on famous charm-working wizards and a few others. In the aisle next to it, he grabbed copies of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration, Intermediate Transfiguration, and he almost bought the book on Advanced Transfiguration, but didn't want to get ahead of himself and seem like a prat.

The aisle on plants and potions excited Harry as well, possibly more than anything else he had seen so far. He remembered all of the things he had bought at the Apothocary's and tried to list them in his head as he pulled volumes from the shelves. He found a large, heavy book with pictures of plants and bought that as well.

The girl, Hermione, returned a moment later with two copies of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Two, and she joined Harry in his emphatic exploration of the bookstore. They selected a basic runes kit and several books on the subject, a number of books on defensive magic, quite a few on hexes- simply for research purposes, of course, they agreed-, and before they grew tired they had also amassed a collection of books on history and magical beasts, as well as a few interesting titles that had nothing to do with their school supply list. Harry got An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe (There were more schools than Hogwarts?), Powers You Never Knew You Had and What To Do With Them Now You've Wised Up, Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland (looked interesting), and Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland (perhaps he could learn a little about the sport before school started.)

Hermione, on the other hand, got An Appraisal of Magical Education the World Over ("more thorough, you see,"), Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions, Dreadful Denizens of the Deep ("Imagine! Mermaids really exist!"), and Sites of Historical Sorcery. They agreed to trade and borrow each others, but they both insisted on buying copies of Hogwarts: A History, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, A Handbook of do-it-yourself Broom Care ("Flying will be a class, you know,"), and The Healer's Helpmate.

The girl walked outside with him, stuffing her books into a bag much like his. As he tried to think of something to say, she busied herself by pulling out a piece of parchment and scribbling something down with a ball-point pen.

She handed him the paper. "It was wonderful... to have made a friend." She smiled. "This is my phone number... oh, but you can use a phone, can't you?"

"Yes, I can."

"Oh, good. Well, this is my address if you wish to write me, and then, there's, like I said, my phone number. I'll see you at Hogwarts!" With that, Hermione turned and hurried excitedly toward a woman who, judging by the flyaway hair, could only be her mother.

* * *

Harry waved goodbye to Hermione, holding the parchment in his hand for a moment before pocketing it.

He had a friend. He had made a friend! With a girl, even!

Harry smiled when he thought about how jealous Dudley would be. Girls hardly ever paid attention to him, not that he could blame them.

Harry turned and entered the next shop in a daze, still grinning to himself. A squat witch, looking very pleasant, approached him and led him into the store.

"Hogwarts, dear, am I right?" Harry nodded as she put him up on a stool and slid a large black robe over him. Another young witch took her place after a moment, pinning it in places to ensure it was the right length.

Madam Malkin returned with another young boy in tow. He looked a little nervous, but Harry could tell he was trying to hide it. He was put on the stool next to Harry and remained still as they began to pin him as well. He had a pale, pointed face and stood with his back straight and his nose a little high in the air. Harry wondered if all wizards did that, but thought that this boy couldn't be any older than him.

"Hello," the boy said before Harry had a chance to. "Hogwarts?"

"Yes," Harry nodded. The new-found confidence that came with already having made a friend flooded Harry. "Here alone?"

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," he said.

"You're not getting all that yourself? I mean," Harry changed course, as the boy looked insulted. "you don't want to look around and get any extra?"

The boy blinked, looking contemplative. "I didn't think of that. I don't know what I would get."

"Well-" Harry didn't dare move, as the young woman was still sticking pins in his robe and adjusting things with her wand. "I'll show you some things I've gotten. I found some wicked spellbooks at Flourish and Blotts!"

The boy raised his eyebrows. "Spellbooks like The Standard Book of Spells we have to get for school?"

"Well, that, and more." Harry tried to think of the most impressive thing he had bought. "I got a book on curses, too, and a few on-"

"Curses?" The boy looked suddenly excited. "That is... wicked." The word was like a foreign object in his mouth. "My father wouldn't let me get any books on curses. He said it casts the wrong light on the family."

Harry furrowed his brows. "Why? They sell books on them at the bookstore. The shopkeeper didn't say anything to me. Besides, the book tells you the counter-curses, doesn't it?"

The boy shrugged. "Father says people are always out to prove the family's evil somehow." He made a face. "'Draco, if people were to see you buying books on hexes and curses, what would they think of the family?'"

Harry snorted at the boy's impression of what must have been his father. "Your name is Draco?"

He nodded. "Draco Lucius Malfoy. What's your surname?"

"Surname? Oh, yeah. Potter. Harry James Potter."

Draco, as well as the woman who had just finished pinning Harry, seemed to choke. "What?!"

Harry blushed. "What? Did I say it wrong?"

Madam Malkin, the only one who hadn't stopped, finished Draco's robes and shooed him off. "I'll charge it to your accounts, dear, go along."

The two boys walked out of the shop together. Draco kept leaning toward Harry, as though trying to confirm his identity. "Can I see it then?"

"See what?"

"Your scar."

Harry felt like an idiot. "Oh, sure." He lifted up his shaggy bangs and showed Draco, wondering how the hell Draco had known about it.

"So it really is you, then." Draco leaned back, apparently satisfied with his investigation. "Can I see that book now? Wait." He looked around the alley. "Where are you headed next?"

Harry pointed past Gringotts toward the next shop. Draco smiled and waved him along. "Let's go then, get the book out, I want to see!"

Harry ginned as well, forgetting about the scar incident. Another boy his age was talking to him, and besides, he was in the Wizarding world- maybe this sort of thing was normal, knowing about other people like you're related to them.

* * *

_Harry's Year Three, First Day of Classes_

"We'll see you later then, Ron." Harry and Hermione waved at him as he set off down the hall with Neville toward Divination. Harry pulled his too-heavy bag onto his shoulder and followed Hermione, who was tapping her foot impatiently.

When they reached Arithmancy Hermione could barely contain her excitement. "This is going to be great, isn't it?" Harry, staring off into the distance, 'hmm'ed in reply.

"What is the matter?"

"Just can't wait to talk to Lupin."

They entered the classroom and took their seats in the first row, looking around at the other students in the class. Anthony Goldstein and Ernie Macmillan were in the back, having a heated discussion about something, and Susan Bones was sitting on the left side of the room with a Slytherin named Daphne Greengrass. Another Slytherin, Mandy Brocklehurst, took a seat behind Harry and Hermione and was soon joined by Terry Boot. Blaise Zabini entered and slipped into the right-side second row, glaring at the other students who were talking.

As Harry started pulling his textbook and notes out, he saw, out of the corner of his eye, another set of Slytherin robes enter the room.

"Malfoy," he said by way of greeting, nodding his head and glaring.

He smiled. "You don't have to do that in here, Harry."

Anthony and Ernie stopped talking, turning and staring at them both, surprised. Susan Bones giggled and Harry tried not to notice as he smiled, relieved. "Thank god. So no one here is...?"

"A future Death Eater? Nah." Malfoy pulled a chair from the nearest table and sat next to Harry, crossing one leg and looking as distinguished as ever. "We're all safe, trust me."

"So?" Hermione turned, waved away the two staring Hufflepuffs, and leaned over the table. "Find anything out?"

Malfoy leaned forward as well, glancing around. His face turned deadly serious. "Father says he'd never even spoken to him. Can't ever remember Voldemort speaking to anyone with the name Sirius Black, either, but he says there was a young kid by the name of Regulus Black that Voldemort went after for defecting."

"Defecting?"

"He tried to get out once he was in." Malfoy looked around again. "But Father is almost certain that Black- Sirius Black- was never a Death Eater. He says he wasn't in the inner circle, at any rate, and usually anyone worth throwing in Azkaban was. Besides, Black is Mother's cousin, she knew him when he was a kid, she said he didn't fit with the family and wouldn't have ever served anyone, much less the Dark Lord."

Hermione looked uncertain. She pulled out her notebook. "Here," she whispered. "We talked to the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher on the way here- _he_ knew Black when he was in school."

Draco's eyebrows shot up as he read through what was on the paper. "This is looking more suspicious every minute."

Harry nodded. "We're going to talk to him today and get some more information. He seemed to know him personally."

Draco glanced up. "What's his surname again?"

"Lupin."

A moment of thought. "No," he said finally. "Never heard that name from Father. There's a large pureblood family in France by that name, but they're dwindling, haven't any males heirs that are still alive to my knowledge."

Harry exhaled a breath he hadn't known he was holding. "So he's safe?"

"Probably." Draco pulled out his Arithmancy text and slid his bag toward the desk on the right. He turned, looking at Hermione, grinning. He had decided it was time to change the subject. "Read through it yet, Granger?"

"Or course," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "Who do you think you're talking to? We've even gotten our notes on the first seven chapters done."

"Gods, have you really?" he feigned surprise. "And I've only gotten the first five! I suppose I should just throw myself off the astronomy tower now..."

Harry snorted. "Sure, Draco. As if you'd risk the windfall ruffling up your hair."

Draco ran a hand over his slicked back hair, almost without knowing. "There's nothing wrong with my hair, _Harry_. At least I have some control over it."

Harry did a perfect impression of Draco's sneer. "Please, Malfoy. You look like you shower in vegetable oil. Besides-" he ran a hand through his hair. "I go for the natural look."

"And Granger goes for the Trelawny look?"

She squealed in horror just as professor Vector stepped into the room, glaring. Hermione blushed and pulled her things out as Draco left for the desk on the right.

Excited as he was for Arithmancy, for it was a very interesting subject, Harry still couldn't help looking at the clock every few moments. His mind was racing with all that he had been told about Sirius Black, and all that he had read. He wondered if he should be more worried; was someone going to jump out from behind a wall and kill him? Did Sirius Black really escape just to get to him?

When the bell rang for Arithmancy, Hermione left with Draco, going down the hall- not toward Transfiguration. Harry kept his mouth shut, knowing already about the time-turner (even though she wasn't supposed to tell him), but was still nervous about going to class alone, as there had been no other Gryffindors in Arithmancy. After a moment of smiling at his own stupidity, as he _was_ in Hogwarts, and therefor mostly safe, Harry turned, heading to class, his mind once again turning toward Sirius Black.

* * *

A/N: The lists are just so you can get a feel of their personalities. And, you know, it always amazed me that even those raised in the Wizarding World are exposed to so little of it. It's kind of ridiculous. :/ Anyway, yes. Review please :D It makes me write faster.


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